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suicide is NOT…

You left a letter to your family. You told them how much you loved them, how important they were to you, and how much they meant to you. Then you killed yourself. It makes the letter to your family a lie.

It got too tough, so you took an out, the final out. Now anyone who was to learn from you have been cheated out of the experience. Cheated your own family and friends their learning in your time of not being able to wipe your own ass, your chin, and your nose. What can they learn from you now? How can they grow?

You were close to the end already. You had options. You could have refused medication. You could have let your natural death take its course. You could have lived and died with dignity and respect. You could have left the world with integrity. People could say, “This is how it is done. This is what is expected of the rest of us when our time comes”.

Decades of living a less than happy life ending in a state of less than. Less than a full life lived. Less than putting your family and friends before your selfish self. Cheating them of the opportunity of being there for your end. Cheating them out of telling you they love you one last time, and how they now treasure each day they had with you. Knowing you are leaving because your body is breaking down, and your life has finished its course.

After a lifetime of struggle, and pain, not having enough left to give it a little more time. Really? You were on the downhill side of life for goodness sake. You could have stuck it out a few more years.

You could have held up your life. Meeting your death, giving a lesson on how life should be lived. Letting others know your weaknesses and your inner strength by living to your natural end.

Your choosing the easy way out disturbs me. You were leaving ahead of me, and I counted on you to show me the way. Showing me how it is to be done. Showing me there is dignity in living life to its natural end. You took these life lessons away from all of us.

I want to yell at you. I want to tell you what a fool you are. I want to dislike you for what you have done. I want to hold you in disdain. I want to berate you. I want you to understand what you did. I want to slap you across the face.

I know I cannot and would not do those things to you. I can only feel sorry for you. I can only wish you had found the courage to ride your life to its natural end. I can only hope when my end nears, I have the dignity, selflessness, and courage to do what you could not.

I hope when life gets tough and my body breaks down, I will choose to stay to the end. I hope I will allow people to learn and grow as they are forced to take care of me, abuse me, or neglect me. I hope as they change my diaper, clean my face, shave me, bathe me, they learn something from me. I owe the world this much at least.

In my final days I have something someone needs to learn. I can teach even if I am not there, and only a breathing shell remains. I hope I have the courage to hang around long enough so those around me can learn only what my natural death can teach.